


faith;

by joongz



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mention of Suicide and Depression, Sad with a Happy Ending, Violence, discussion of religion, kinda idk, please read carefully.....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-03-20 20:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18999610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joongz/pseuds/joongz
Summary: Minhyuk and the little home he has built himself inside of Jooheon’s heart over the past years. Jooheon knocks on the door of said home, ready to find shelter and a place to rest. To lie down comfortably on a bed together with Minhyuk, their hands tangled together, surrounded by silence while they stare up at the ceiling above, save from the evil outside, inside their small bubble. Jooheon just needs time, time to figure himself out, time to heal from all that has weighed him down to the floor; a heavy and solid force on his shoulders holding him in place while he desperately tries to run away.T'was Grace that taught my heart to fearBits and pieces of Jooheon and Minhyuk's side story todownpour;.





	faith;

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taelights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taelights/gifts).



> For you Sarah!!! I promised you the story of joohyuk and here it is! <3
> 
> It took me a while to post because I am Very insecure about it and the emotions poured into it, and well, because, it's also a very sensitive topic :/ But nonetheless I hope you like it ??
> 
>  
> 
> ps: there might be some spelling mistakes i'm sorry :/

**Late winter ‘09**

Minhyuk walks with Jooheon that Tuesday. It’s mid February but snow falls, still.

It’s been around three months since he met the younger boy; it happened after school when he had found him in between two buildings, some small alley, crying silently as his shoulders shook. Minhyuk first had advised himself against talking to him. He knew Jooheon from school and he was a bit of a homophobe, just like his friends (who where a thousand times worse).

In the end, Minhyuk had approached him, against his better judgement, and had laid a hand on Jooheon’s shaking shoulders, patting them soothingly. The younger had tensed underneath his touch, but hadn’t moved at all, just his sniffling and quiet wailing had filled the air around them. Minhyuk had stood awkwardly next to him until finally Jooheon had calmed down, then he had looked up with a wary and awkwardly smile. They had widened upon recognizing Minhyuk, but he hadn’t yelled some degrading stuff at him or pushed him away, he had just sat there, hugging his knees, as he had stared at Minhyuk, clueless.

Minhyuk had been the first to talk, asking him if he was alright, to which Jooheon had replied _yes_. A lie, obviously. Minhyuk hadn’t asked, even if the questioned burned his tongue and wanted to be set free. It hadn’t been his place to know and still isn’t, if Jooheon wanted to trust him with the truth he would.

But the truth might be to harsh for both of them to swallow so Jooheon keeps lying and Minhyuk pretends he doesn’t notice; pretended he doesn’t care.

That Tuesday the snow is falling thickly and the cars that pass by in the distance are barely audible, muffled in the snow. They’re alone, no one else around, and Minhyuk stops in his tracks, suddenly overcome with an urge to… To...

He isn’t sure. He doesn’t know that pang of pain in his chest, all he knows is that it grows as he turns his head towards Jooheon, who stops a few feet ahead of him, turning his head around in confusion.

“Why did you stop?” he asks and walks back towards Minhyuk.

Minhyuk remembers his crush on Hyungwon around two or three years ago, that longing in his chest, the inexplicable breathlessness, the twist in his stomach… All of it crashes down onto him, as if the snowflakes were turning into hail and hit him, when he stares into Jooheon’s dark brown eyes.

They look dull in the cold world around them, but Minhyuk sees a light there. Far away. A light that seems to be hidden away for a reason; one that Jooheon precariously hid away—or was forced to hide away. Minhyuk wants to reach it, he wants to take that light up to the front before it extinguishes in the darkness around it. He wants to set it free. He wants to set Jooheon free.

Minhyuk, without thinking and on instinct almost, lifts up his hand towards Jooheon’s face, overcome with that sudden need to reach inside Jooheon’s soul and make him see he doesn’t need to hide away, but as soon as his fingertips grace the younger boy’s cheekbones Jooheon flinches away. Startled and like a deer caught in headlight.

“I’m sorry,” Minhyuk quickly apologizes and lets his hand fall. “I didn’t mean to—”

Jooheon shakes his head, frowning, with fear in his eyes. He walks away decidedly (he would be running if not for the icy roads). The world around Minhyuk feels colder as he watches the other’s back disappear in the white wall that falls from above.

* * *

 

**Early summer ‘10**

Jooheon stumbles his way out of the house and into the garden, his stomach turning and twisting with the alcohol he has taken in until then. He understands why his parents always preach against it, specially a boy his age, but if the other boys from the community got the green lights to assist the party then why shouldn’t he?

He regrets it now and he thinks maybe the boys lied, only trying to get him to come along, join them on their train to iniquity. He feels torn about his acts tonight but the sluggishness in his brain makes it hard for him to properly overthink and analyze his behavior which is why he is outside in the first place, to cool down and get clearer thoughts on what he is doing. Is it wrong of him to go out at age 16 to drink alcohol with his peers? Is it really so immoral and sinful of him to want to be an ordinary teenager?

The air outside is fresh and he feels the dizziness fade away, he takes in a deep breath, frowning at the strange smell he picks up, he isn't sure what it is, perhaps someone mowed the grass earlier in the day (although it’s not exactly that either, maybe there is some exotic flower blooming?). He crisscrosses his way to a bench that is placed in the garden of— _Shit_ , Jooheon forgot the name of the host of the party. Hyunwoo, was it?

He is about to sit down on the bench when he spots someone crouching in the grass, their back turned to him, at first it seems as if the person is not doing okay, their shoulders shaking slightly, and Jooheon decides to approach them but once he is close enough he hears giggling sounds and sees someone else with that person. Chae Hyungwon, a boy in his year, he doesn’t know much about him except that he part time models and is known for his nostalgic and heart wrenching poetry and sharp dance moves.

Then without a doubt the person crouching with Hyungwon, the one giggling to himself, has to be Minhyuk; the two are basically inseparable ever since they all started high school time ago. And as Jooheon gets closer, his footsteps giving away his presence, his assumption gets verified as the person crouching turns around to face him, mid giggle, eyebrows shooting up as he recognizes Jooheon.

“Oh,” Minhyuk lets out, eyes widening and quickly moves his hand towards Hyungwon, who laughs loudly, and takes whatever it is that Minhyuk handed him.

That’s when Jooheon spots the cigarette they are sharing or rather, more accurately, the drug they are sharing. He scrunches up his nose in disapproval, the strange scent making sense now, and continues in his quest to sit on the bench. Minhyuk angles his body so that he is sitting in front of Jooheon in the grass, he cocks his head, lazy smile on his face, and just stares at him. It makes feel Jooheon restless and a part of him wishes the boy would stop.

He sees now, lying on the grass, in the darkness, is Hoseok. The final piece of the trio. Hoseok sits up as he senses someone new is there. He raises his eyebrows upon spotting Jooheon but keeps his mouth shut, reaching out his hands to grab the joint out of Hyungwon’s hands.

“Funny seeing you here,” Minhyuk begins, his tone indicating there is a follow up but nothing comes.

“Is it now?” Jooheon goes against his nature and responds, there is no one around to prohibit him from talking to the boy.

Minhyuk just nods slowly, not taking away his eyes from him and Jooheon decides to return the gaze, taking in the appearance of the older. He sits now cross legged in the grass, his black skinny jeans stretching over his legs, the holes on the knees exposing more skin than necessary and tightening up around the boy’s thighs (he wonders how he even is able to move around freely in them); he takes in the white, tucked in, shirt Minhyuk wears with the interesting, yet not really comprehensible to Jooheon, graphic design, matched with his signature jeans jacket that is two sizes to big for him but somehow he makes it work, often wearing it lazily and letting it hang off his shoulders. As always his black hair is delicately styled, bangs hanging over his forehead (although this time it’s a bit messed up, mostly due to sweating and the humidity in the air), and his round glasses sit atop his nose, giving him that sort of arrogant and intellectual vibe.

“I’m going to take a wild guess here and say you won’t be finish this,” Hoseok interrupts the silence around them, holding the now unlit joint in front of Minhyuk’s face, rising his eyebrows as he expects an answer.

“There you are correct, my friend.”

“Then I’m going to go inside and search for Hyunwoo—” ( _ah, so_ that _was his name_ , Jooheon thinks to himself) “—and see if he is up to splitting it.”

“ _Just_ to split a joint?” Hyungwon waggles his eyebrows in a suggestive way that Jooheon doesn’t quite get at first, but then he thinks back to all the rumors and hushed words that have reached him about the trio and he can feel his stomach turn even further as he watches Hoseok get up and walk away; all he can think is, _oh_.

Hyungwon stretches out his arms and stands up, making a movement with his hands, as if he’s swatting flies away, and announces that he’s going home because he has an early shift.

The silence around them is back, crickets singing in the night, they almost tune out the bass and low music that emits from the house where the party is. It’s a time in the night where not even cars pass by in the distance, and if Jooheon were to close his eyes he could almost imagine he is alone in this world.

But he isn’t, there’s Minhyuk sitting cross legged in front of him, again staring at him.

“This is probably very out of the blue but do you want to go get ice cream?”

“What?" Jooheon asks, startled and taken aback. He wasn’t expecting Minhyuk to talk to him and even less propose them hanging out as if they’re friends or something. “You mean like—?”

“Like right now.”

“What?” he repeats, frowning. “It’s around three in the morning…”

Minhyuk grins, widely and pulling his legs apart from where they were tangled, standing up and dusting off his butt before he reaches out his hand for Jooheon to take.

“Let’s get ice cream at the mall, I know a way to get inside.”

“Uh—” Jooheon begins, trying to form a sentence, but nothing really comes to him as he stares at the hand in front of him and then at the smile Minhyuk wears, something about it is so disarming and puts down all the walls and limitations Jooheon has been dealing with ever since he was born. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Not if you have a key and I happen to have it,” Minhyuk pulls away his hand and something about it makes Jooheon’s heart sting, he ignores the feeling and stands up, wobbling on his legs, then he stares at Minhyuk pulling out a bundle of keys, he goes through them until he seems to find the one he is looking for as he lets out a quiet, _aha_. “See this is the key to endless ice cream at 3 in the morning.”

“Why do you have it?”

“Because I work at the ice cream parlor at the mall.”

“Won’t you get fired for going there now?”

“Nah, I’m friends with the owner, besides we don’t have security cameras and my shift starts at 6 anyway," Minhyuk explains easily and starts to walk away from the house, the party, at the gate he stops though and turns around, waiting on Jooheon.

Minhyuk stands there in the darkness, barely any light source on him, only what comes from the house and the moon up in the sky, most of his face hidden in shadows, but the way he holds himself, the expression he wears, it tugs at Jooheon’s heart and before he knows it he walks towards the older boy, his legs moving on his own. It’s almost as if Minhyuk has a magnetic pull on him.

“You're going to work a 6am shift after being out all night?” Jooheon asks as they make their way away from Hyunwoo’s house, the road dark as no street lamps are in this area, the only light coming from Minhyuk’s phone flashlight.

“I took a five hour nap earlier so I’m awake enough to work for six hours, besides I’ve been working there for almost two years now, at this point it’s mechanic what I do,” he explains with a shrug, nonchalant and uncaring.

Jooheon is so envious of his easy and chill manners but he swallows those feelings down and gives a short nod, focusing his attention on the darkness in front of him and the small light Minhyuk offers.

The walk is quiet and they are accompanied by the incessant singing of the crickets in the background, their footsteps seeming louder in the night; since his eyes can't pick up much his other senses heighten their functionality and so Jooheon notices every single noise around them, from the breeze blowing through the trees and shaking up their leaves to the owls in the distance; he notices the difference in smells as they get to the busier part of the town and the scent of trees and flowers dies down; he notices every single time the back of his hand so much as accidentally and softly, barely touching, brushes against Minhyuk’s. It’s what his mind focuses on the most.

His tactile sense.

It’s so insignificant and small yet he feels himself shiver whenever their knuckles bump together, he retrieves his hand every time as if he got burned, and ignores the way the hairs rise on his arms and neck; because what is he even supposed to make out of it? What kind of meaning is he supposed to write into it? Somewhere far back in his mind a small voice, trapped behind big metal bars and deprived of any freedom, tries to make itself heard by whispering to him that it’s his continuous desire to get to know Minhyuk, the always present wish to be closer to him despite that he is mostly a stranger, despite that their ideologies clash even if they both follow the same religion.

(It’s the voice that comes out late at night and makes him think of the way the boys in the locker room after PE undress themselves and expose their bodies, all muscles and lean and defined, makes him realize he stares longer than appropriate at some of his male friend's lips…)

He gulps down all the fears that make its way up his throat because right now he isn't caged away in his room nearing 4 in the morning, alone and exposed to his most darkest thoughts. He is outside with Minhyuk walking to the mall, there is no place to be questioning everything he has known so far in life and realize that perhaps he is straying away from God’s path. He isn’t. The voice is locked away for a reason and the reason he feels shivers run up his exposed arms when Minhyuk glances at him shortly,  as they approach the tall mall building, is because it's fresh outside despite that it's a summer's night and he hasn’t brought any jacket, only dressed in a simple white short sleeved shirt.

But even then as he tries to tell himself this the voice laughs at him  and he is painfully aware of the lies he keeps telling himself. It makes him wonder until when he can keep lying to himself and keep this fake act up before it undoubtedly will all spill out and come out to light. What will happen then? When did he take a wrong turn?

Minhyuk leads him to a small door at the side of the building and pulls out again the chain of keys, using the one he showed off earlier to open the door and motions at Jooheon to get inside first. He steps inside and it's even darker than outside but soon Minhyuk’s phone lights up the hallway, the boy brushes past him, his shoulder bumping into his as he takes the lead and walks him down the foreign path.

From what Jooheon can recognize it seems to be some sort of entrance for merchandise and food to get delivered at as the hallway lacks any type of decoration or presentable appearance that one would expect from a mall and there are doors lining up on both sides that read the names of different stores. They stop once they stand in front of one that says _Chae’s Fruity Frozen Fantasies_. Jooheon pulls a face at the name, it's kind of indecent in his opinion.

“Wait, _Chae’s_?” he whisper-asks, not daring to raise his voice because even if Minhyuk _does_ have keys and they aren't exactly trespassing it still feels as if they _are_ and the situation requires some sort of secrecy.

“Yeah, the owner is Hyungwon’s older cousin,” Minhyuk replies, his tone normal but it sounds so much louder in the silence, and then uses another key to unlock the door, pushing it open with his shoulder.

He steps inside, holding the door open with his foot, as he blindly moves his hand around the wall until he finds the light switch, illuminating the small back room of the ice cream parlor. There is a big kitchen counter, neat and clean, next to it are two huge fridges and opposite of the counter is a big table with several cupboards, paper labels sticking to them with the names of what Jooheon supposes are their contents (‘spoons’, ‘discount cards’, ‘Christmas decorations’, etc.).

Minhyuk walks through the kitchen and through the doorless door frame into the next room where he again turns on the light switch, illuminating the insides of the parlor, Jooheon hears the whirring sound of something coming to live and once he steps into the next room he sees it belongs to the freezer where the ice creams usual are on display.

Now it’s empty, though.

The whole parlor gives off an eerie and off feeling, he has seen it in the day time those times he is at the mall and passes by, always buzzing with life, children excitedly eating their ice creams with no care, their mouths getting covered with chocolate or vanilla or whatever other flavor they choose, parents adoringly staring at their kids, napkins in hand ready to swipe off the stains. The place always has a sort of friendly aura but now it's empty, the bright colors of the furniture seem colder in the light coming from above and Jooheon feels as if he is in a dream realm.

He gives Minhyuk an expectant look, side eyeing the empty ice cream freezer, wondering where they even store away the ice cream (or did they get it delivered fresh every morning?). The older boy huffs out a laugh and moves to a small fridge under the counter, he opens it, the door swinging fully open, revealing containers with labels on them, Minhyuk takes out a couple and closes the fridge’s door again, then he gets a couple of spoons.

“These were supposed to be thrown away yesterday, but we keep them sometimes for ourselves,” he explains and hands one spoon to Jooheon. “Dig in,” he opens the container with the label ‘blueberry’ and takes a huge spoonful of the bluish looking ice cream, he licks and nibbles at it.

Jooheon is in a trace and when Minhyuk clears his throat he snaps out of it, sticking his spoon into the same container, feeling awkward and he notices his cheeks heating up. He bites into the ice cream, his teeth immediately hurting but he ignores it in favor of not embarrassing himself further in front of Minhyuk, he swallows it down and winces at the coldness and taste. He doesn’t even like blueberries.

They eat in silence, Minhyuk on top of the counter, Jooheon leaned against the display freezer. Slowly more and more containers are being opened and Jooheon ends up mixing strawberry and chocolate and it’s good, an explosion of flavors on his tongue, and he finds himself smiling. He hasn’t really been able to eat ice cream like this in a long time, he can’t even remember the last time he had some. He hums in satisfaction as he tries yet another combination, banana and chocolate, a truly superior mix.

“It’s good, huh?” Minhyuk says and smiles at him and suddenly Jooheon is brought back, the bubble he found himself in for the past couple of minutes broken.

He nods and stares at the older boy, foregoing the rest of ice cream on his spoon as a question appears in his mind and it burns itself into his consciousness, eating away every other thought. It'’ a question he has wanted to ask for such a long time, but never found the opportunity to do so, never found the moment. Ever since he first met Minhyuk in high school and Minhyuk walked the hallways proudly showing off the colorful pins on his bag; ever since Jooheon understood that Minhyuk was _everything_ his parents taught him to hate and despise; ever since they became closer around a year ago in the middle of February and Minhyuk’s face appeared to him like an angel aiding to his help…

And maybe this moment isn't it either, but it’s just them, secluded from the rest of the world. They find themselves in their own small world right now and no one is there to stop Jooheon.

“Why did you choose… _this_?” Jooheon asks then, hesitant, finally being able to voice it when he has been holding back for such a long, _long_ time.

Despite that the question itself is vague Minhyuk seems to know exactly what Jooheon wants to know because he halts, spoon mid air, and looks at him with no revealing expression in his eyes. He just takes in Jooheon, eyes traveling around Jooheon’s face, searching for _something_ and whether he finds it or not doesn’t matter as he opens his mouth to reply.

“I didn’t _choose_ anything, Jooheon,” Minhyuk answers, licking the ice cream off of the spoon and giving him a side glance, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “That’s your people’s problem, you think it’s a choice. I was born like this,” he pauses, laughing dryly before he continues, “ _God_ made me like this.”

Jooheon takes in his answer and really thinks about it, he wants to believe him, wants to accept that God made Minhyuk that way, made Hoseok and Hyungwon that way, made millions of others that way, but it’s too hard to accept when all he has ever learned was that they were people straying away from what God had intended. But before he can even voice his opinion, his thoughts, Minhyuk drops the spoon on the counter and hops off of it.

“Let’s dance,” he says and starts to close the containers.

“What?” Jooheon asks, surprised, staring at his still full spoon as Minhyuk opens yet again the fridge to put the ice cream back in.

“We have a stereo and I don't know about you but this is the perfect scenario to listen to Toto’s _Africa_.”

“What,” Jooheon repeats, deadpan, frowning. “Toto’s _what_? Who is Toto?”

“You—” Minhyuk starts, snapping his head in his direction, opening his mouth a couple of times like a muppet, in disbelief. “You don’t know _Africa_? We need to change this immediately. I can’t believe I’m friends with someone that doesn’t know _Africa_.”

 _Friends_. The word echoes in Jooheon’s head and he feels warmness spread in his chest. Friends, is that what they are now? Friends who don’t really hang out, with very different opinions and world views, and where one party doesn’t accept the other. Yet Minhyuk called _him_ his friend. Without realizing Jooheon begins to smile and pushes himself off of the display freezer, finishing off the las bits of ice cream he has on the spoon and leaves it on the counter.

“What are you smiling for?” Minhyuk asks him, forehead wrinkled in confusion, cheeks dusted with red, a smile of his own fighting its way onto his face.

“Nothing.”

It’s certainly something else being in an empty shopping center at almost 4 in the morning, all shops closed down, the lights inside turned off, only emergency lights are on and the mannequins in the clothing shops look like they are going to come alive any second now. The water fountain flows in the distance, where they put a sort of oasis for some reason, the bottom of the fountain full of coins of people who threw them inside to wish for something like they do in movies and holding onto the higher powers to grant them their wishes.

Jooheon is leaning against the door of the ice cream parlor, staring into the empty, dark mall, the only bigger source of light coming from the parlor itself. Minhyuk is inside, battling with the stereo and its speakers, he promised it would be magical and nothing Jooheon has ever experienced and it makes him wonder just how many times Minhyuk has done this, going into the ice cream shop at an ungodly hour of the morning to eat ice cream and listen to music while the city outside is asleep. It makes him wonder as well if Jooheon is the first guest Minhyuk has brought here or if he does this often with friends, maybe Hyungwon or Hoseok.

A part of him hopes and wishes he is the first guest.

A loud noise startles him and he snaps his head towards it so quick he notices pain shoot up his neck, he winces and brings up his hand to rub it as he glares at Minhyuk, who gives him an apologetic look. Then music filters through the speakers and fills the air.

“ _This_ is Toto’s _Africa_ ,” Minhyuk declares proudly, a big grin on his face, and joins Jooheon where he stands by the door.

_I hear the drums echoing tonight but she hears only whispers of some quiet conversation_

* * *

 

**Fall ‘11**

The rain splatters against Jooheon’s window but now that he is inside he finds himself not minding it that much, even his drenched clothes and wet hair don’t bother him anymore, not when Minhyuk stands in his room wearing Jooheon’s hoodie, too big on his frame and a couple of shades darker on some places due to the rain hitting them. Minhyuk has his black hair pushed away from his face, standing up messily, droplets of water slide down his cheeks but his eyes are bright and so is the smile forming on his face, he lets out a shaky, breathless laugh, and Jooheon’s heart squeezes in his chest.

But he doesn’t mind anything right now, not while he has Minhyuk in his room on a rainy afternoon after school, hidden away from the world outside, sheltered from the expectations put onto them by the adults in their lives. Now it’s just the two of them. Admittedly if they don’t change quickly they might catch a cold and that wouldn’t be fun, but even as he thinks about it, Jooheon wouldn’t care having a fever, not when Minhyuk is smiling at him with his cheeks red and his eyes holding the stars.

“Can you _please_ give me some dry clothes,” Minhyuk is the first to talk, voice shaky and Jooheon notices his teeth are shattering, his whole body shaking the slightest.

That pulls Jooheon out of his thoughts and trance.

“Of course,” he says and turns to walk towards his closet, he swings open the door and rummages through it until he finds dry sweatpants and loose short sleeved shirt.

He throws them at Minhyuk who catches them, displays them on Jooheon’s bed, and then slowly starts to pull the hoodie over his head, getting stuck as the wet material sticks to his bare arms but he manages, his hair sticking up even more and Jooheon can’t suppress the fond smile that finds its way onto his lips. But when Minhyuk moves to remove his shirt Jooheon feels his heart beat pick up and he turns once again around to get find clothes for himself in his closet, he doesn’t need to see his friend practically naked in his room. That wouldn’t do him no good.

It isn’t supposed to be something that flusters him _this_ much, but it does and he counts down from ten, trying to calm his heart but he hears the ruffling from clothes being removed behind his back and imagination is a powerful thing. He shuts his eyes closed tight and tries _not_ to think about it, it proves to be a difficult task but he keeps thinking of the old lady in church that always gives him candy, he thinks of the Bible verses burned into his brain that remind him that it is wrong, what his mind is trying to conjure up in this instant.

“All done, thank you,” Minhyuk says then and Jooheon finally is brave enough to open his eyes and face his friend again.

He stands there, cheeks still red, hair still wet and pushed away from his face, but he is clothed in Jooheon’s sweatpants and his shirt, and he looks so incredibly soft and homely. It only makes the ache in Jooheon’s heart grow; and he despises it. He wants to push it away, he wants to push Minhyuk away, but once he is faced with those eyes and the smile he can’t remember any of the verses his parents so diligently taught him ever since he was a kid.

Because that instant the only truth he knows is Minhyuk. Minhyuk in his room, wearing his clothes.

The overwhelming feeling of realization that hits him in that instant makes him feels sick to his stomach, he stands completely still staring at the young man in front of him, who stares back, and it’s as if he sees Minhyuk’s eyes for the first time. There’s a mutual understanding in the air between them, he sees something in those eyes, something that resonates with him. It’s as if Minhyuk is reaching inside his mind, his soul, and removing all boxes and barriers Jooheon has learned to put up his whole life, only to finally find a hidden door, its lock is unguarded, no key needed and he simply opens it, slowly and tentatively.

But Minhyuk doesn’t know what to do with it, neither does Jooheon, it’s a new territory for the two of them.

Jooheon stands still as the storm arises inside him, he is stripped away from the image and walls he always felt the need to put up, he always thought he had to put up; but right now he doesn’t need to because they are in his room, away from all eyes and people. It’s just them and their souls bare, a story unwritten and they can shape it any way they want. Jooheon doesn’t know who moves first, but suddenly Minhyuk stands incredibly close to him, eyes still boring into and they’re immense like an ocean, one Jooheon wishes to dive into and learn all emotions hidden in it. But he holds back, he always does because he knows no different way.

“Are you okay?” Minhyuk asks, softly, a whisper, as if he is scared to break the atmosphere surrounding them. “I mean are you—Is this okay with you?” He alternates his question and reaches out his, it’s shaking when he graces Jooheon’s cheek.

The words get stuck in his throat, he doesn’t even know what he could say in this moment, he doesn’t trust himself. His thoughts are a hurricane, leaving a vast field of destruction behind, his heart is about to jump out of his chest, but in all this chaos he trusts Minhyuk and the calm hand that is cupping his face. The touch is warm and comforting and he finds himself leaning into it. He can’t help the stuttered breath he lets out or the way his eyes flutter close. It’s overwhelming him because for the first time in his life he allows himself to _have_ this. He lets himself feel all these emotions that were buried away behind all the words and the beliefs forced onto him.

If God prohibits him feeling this way, if God hates him for letting his heart take lead, then why did he allow them to exist in the first place?

He struggles to breathe when Minhyuk moves his other hand around his neck, safely and securely holding him. He wonders what thoughts are running through Minhyuk’s head this moment; is he thinking of God and morality as well or does he not question these things? He knows Minhyuk grew up differently than him, he knows his friend has been taught a more open view despite the fact that they pray to and look up to the same God.

Jooheon feels so confused and betrayed, but he allows himself to have this because he doesn’t know how much his heart could handle pushing Minhyuk away in this instant. He doesn’t even want to anymore, he doesn’t want to reject the way Minhyuk believes, the way he sees the world, the way he feels their faith. But there’s so much unravelled chaos in Jooheon’s life still, he wouldn’t even know where to pick himself up, where to apply these changed ideologies.

But perhaps this wasn’t the moment to think about it, he shouldn’t be thinking about God and faith when he is about to kiss another boy, he can think about it later. All of it can come to him later because all he wants— _needs_ —right now is to finally discover what he has questioned millions of times before; he wants to experience it at least once in his life instead of having it constantly flash in the back of his mind like a neon sign.

(He needs to know… He wants to…)

And Minhyuk is right there, always has been. Jooheon doesn’t even know how to explain the longing in his heart, the desire. The back of his mind whispers a single word on repeat and it’s as if he is being haunted, _sinsinsinsin_.

If he is a wrongdoer then so be it; if he is a sinner then he will pack his bags and travel to Hell once his soul leaves his body, he will walk down that aisle together with all the other millions of souls heading that way. He doesn’t care paying for this sin, not when his heart longs for it (even if he feels so incredibly scared).

When Minhyuk’s lips finally touch his own he doesn’t register it for the first couple of seconds. It’s just warmth pressed against his lips. He is too shocked to properly understand that it is happening, there is a repeating drum sounding in his ears, _du-dum-du-dum-du-dum_ , and his head hurts and spins, it’s a horrible feeling that overcomes him. All too much and yet not enough at the same time.

Jooheon feels as if he is going to burst any moment now; with what? He isn’t so sure himself but sweat runs down his back and it all feels too heavy, pulling him down. As if the spawns of Hell came for him and are going to drag him away, downwards. But then Minhyuk presses closer to him, moving his lips against Jooheon'’, running the hand that laid on his neck through his hair, all softly and tentatively, as if he is scared Jooheon might pull away any second.

And Jooheon snaps out of his shock induced daze, his brain catching up on the fact that he is kissing Minhyuk (or rather Minhyuk is kissing him while he stands rooted on the spot) and that’s enough to wipe away any thought remaining in his brain because he grows aware of those incredibly soft lips on his own, _urgent_. If he would guess, it almost feels as if Minhyuk is trying to drag him out of his head, to guide him away from all the thoughts flooding his mind over the past seconds, minutes; the kiss feels desperate but for all the wrong reasons. And Jooheon decides to let go fo all that he knows.

He allows himself to kiss Minhyuk back, to feel those lips on his, to feel the tiny exhales Minhyuk lets out, to feel that hand grab his hair as if Minhyuk needs to hold himself up somehow. Jooheon allows himself this and more as he reaches out his own hand, shaky, and places it delicately on the other boy’s hip, barely putting any pressure on it as it all still scares him and if he does more he fears his heart will jump out of his chest. For now this will have to do, the soft touches, the brush of their lips against each other. It’s electric in a way, sparks flying behind Jooheon’s eyelids and the tips of his fingers tingle, it’s so, so, so overwhelming and the adrenaline pumps through his body, only adding sparks to the fire that consumes him, but he _allows_ himself having this.

Just once.

_Only this one time._

Minhyuk pulls away softly, not much, just to breathe in and out steadily, his forehead leaning against Jooheon’s, who debates whether he should open his eyes or not.

Currently the whole situation has something dream like to it, as if it isn’t all that real; it could be all happening in his imagination. If he were to open his eyes the it would break the bubble and he can already feel those waves of reality crash over him, but despite all the fear in him he does open his eyes and immediately they lock with Minhyuk’s, whose pupils are blown and he looks just as overwhelmed as Jooheon feels. Minhyuk’s cheeks are redder than before, glowing, he pulls away more and his eyes wander around Jooheon’s face, searching and searching.

Jooheon doesn’t move, he doesn’t want to break the bubble they find themselves in, and he doesn’t want to perturb Minhyuk in his search. He has no idea what his friend is looking for. Jooheon tries not to think about anything because that would ruin it, he would question his decision and he doesn’t want to, for once he wants to peacefully embrace this side to himself that he was pushing away all this time.

But in the silence he picks up the noise of a key being pushed inside a lock and turning it, a door opening, and his hands on Minhyuk’s waist twitch. A million thoughts run through his head and he panics, he panics and he freezes; he can’t make up his mind on what to do next. He wants to push away Minhyuk and at the same time he doesn’t want to hurt him, he doesn’t want to have to push him away, not anymore. But the fear of being found in this position by his mother or even worse his father, he can’t… He just _can’t_. He doesn’t even want to come up with the possible scenarios that could conclude if someone opens his bedroom door right now.

But that’s what happens. It opens.

It just opens, the click of the lock turning sounds brutally loud and it pops the bubble they find themselves in. Minhyuk’s eyes snap towards his, fear and desperation running in them, but Jooheon can’t focus on the boy in front of him. Not when the door slowly swings open, all in slow motion, and his father walks in, words on the tip of his tongue, but once his eyes zero in on the scene in front of him, he closes his mouth shut, the words dying just like Jooheon’s heart does.

It’s eerily quiet, like the calm ambience that settles before a storm where all animals take shelter because they sense the downpour, when the air starts to feel static and humid and a cold wind arises. The coldness that crawls up Jooheon’s back could be very much compared to it, the fear materializing itself as a demon, its mouth stretched into a nasty smirk, superiority in its dead eyes, it reaches out its claws and puts them on his shoulder, and he tenses. His whole body tenses to the point that it hurts and he starts to shake, his hands vanish from around Minhyuk’s waist, hanging by his sides now and he feels his body jerk into motion, turning away from the older boy and towards his father.

He turns his back towards the only person that was willing to take him as he is.

And the pain that comes with it breaks his heart. The pain is so overwhelming it numbs him and he can say for sure he even is human anymore, he certainly doesn’t feel like he exists anymore, running on autopilot. He feels as if his soul left his body and he simply is a vessel. Faintly he is aware of the tears running down his cheeks, of the way he is violently shaking out of fear, how he braces himself for what is about to happen next but he feels detached from all these facts and emotions. He doesn’t really feel anything, he doesn’t feel as if he is there anymore.

The words his father shouts at him and Minhyuk, he does register them in a way, he will remember them later, they will revisit him late at night, they will shape his future, but in that instant there’s only white noise filling his ears. Almost as if he sits by the sea and listens to the waves crushing on the shore before they leave again. He sees his father’s mouth spit out spiteful things towards him and Minhyuk, but he doesn’t understand them, he just watches helplessly, uselessly as his father once again controls him by settling fear deep into his existence. He notices Minhyuk behind him shouting things back, fighting for his own rights, but Jooheon doesn’t feel any of them.

Everything is muted.

Then Minhyuk pushes past him, his shoulder colliding with Jooheon’s. It’s harsh, meant to hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the way his heart further cracks, it’s about to shatter into pieces. He watches—feeling equally detached as the scene brings him an endless feeling of helplessness, too—how Minhyuk walks out of his room, brushing past his father, paying him no mind. His father doesn’t follow Minhyuk, only glares at the older boy with a sense of superiority and utter disgust before he turns to Jooheon.

There’s a moment of silence, of wait, of nothingness before he approaches his son with heavy steps, his stance imposing and aggressive, his whole demeanor radiating anger and hatred. He stands in front of his own son and reaches out his hand to wrap it around Jooheon’s throat, tightening it and throwing him on the floor.

During the whole process Jooheon can’t differentiate in between the demon that represents his fears and his father, they are so much alike, from the snarl to the dead eyes to the violence they apply. It all mingles together in his mind until the world turns into a blur and he lets himself fade into unconsciousness.

He feels so light once he completely detaches from reality, from his own self. Things would be so much easier if he just ceased to exist.

*******

It’s late at night, past midnight, the sky outside dark and the occupants in the house long asleep, as everyone else in the neighborhood. Some dog barks in the distance and it filters through the open window. It’s a chilly night as Minhyuk sits at his desk in a hoodie and sweatpants, he has come out of the shower about an hour ago, but his hair is still wet and hangs messily atop his head. He doesn’t bother to dry it, though. He will deal with it in the morning when he has to get ready for college.

He struggles with the unfinished homework in front of him, the words swimming in his head and tangling together with the thoughts that have plagued him ever since he rushed out of Jooheon’s room after his father had interrupted them. He hasn’t been able to get that moment out of his head, from the way Jooheon and him kissed, the sweetness and rawness of it and then the shadow that casted itself over them when the door of the room opened and Mr Lee stepped inside, his face going from surprise to despise to pure hatred in the matter of milliseconds, too quick to properly catch every single emotion. Minhyuk feels so incredibly guilty for leaving Jooheon alone there, but fear overcame him and the way the other young man just stood helplessly and completely rooted placed a doubt in Minhyuk’s guts, and it hit him that maybe the light he sees in Jooheon isn’t really there, dimmed by the hatred his parents fed him over the years.

Maybe his hope that he can have something with Jooheon is misplaced and after all Minhyuk would only remain a dirty little secret. He has been through that before and he can’t do that again, it’s too hurtful and toxic on himself, but part of him wants to believe that he can have an influence on Jooheon. That he can make the boy take his hand and help him out of that ambience.

A noise by the window makes Minhyuk snap out of his thoughts and he turns towards the source, frowning as he sees a shadow move outside his window. He pushes the chair back from the desk and stands up to walk over to inspect whoever it is that is visit him this late at night, a part of him hopes and expects—knows already who it is. When he turns on the small night lamp next to his bed it lights up part of the windowsill and the face of the person that sits there, hand midair ready to knock.

Minhyuk’s heart squeezes in his chest, tearing apart, as he takes in Jooheon’s appearance. He should have known something was wrong when the other hasn’t made an appearance in the past three days, he should have _fucking_ known, but he had thought maybe he caught a cold or something as they had been caught in heavy and cold rain; and Minhyuk himself has been coughing more these days. But he sees the purple spot on Jooheon’s cheek, the dark lines on his throat, and the healing cut on his bottom lip, and his heart turns so _heavy_ in his chest. He begins to feel nauseous and he can’t stop thinking about the way he walked out of Jooheon’s room that day, brushing past him and Mr Lee, without looking back and thoughts running wildly in his head. The rushing sound of a panic attack already in his ears and disassociation shifting his mind apart from reality throughout the whole way from Jooheon’s house to Hoseok’s, where he collapsed and cried his heart out, confessing to his best friend everything that has been going on in between them.

Minhyuk’s hands tremble as he unlocks the window and lets Jooheon climb inside his room, he is quiet and swift, a bit like he is a ghost, and Minhyuk wonders for the first time what kind of relationship Jooheon has had with his parents all these years. He thinks about the hunched over shoulders, small figure that walked down the school hallways, there but not exactly present, even when he hung out with his church friends.

“I know it’s late and I’m sorry but I just—I don’t want to—I haven’t slept and I can’t stay _there_ any more nights without—I should probably go but I don’t have _anyone_ …” Jooheon rambles, it’s mumbled and under his breath, frantic and he twists his hands awkwardly not meeting Minhyuk’s eyes.

“It’s fine,” Minhyuk interrupts him, sharper than he intents as Jooheon flinches. “It’s okay, you can sleep here tonight,” he tries again, softer and reaching out a hand hesitantly.

Jooheon watches the hand warily but doesn’t move and lets Minhyuk place it under his chin, he moves the boy’s face slowly to inspect the injuries inflicted on him and an incredible urge to scream and destroy overcomes him. It’s so unfair and horrible and not something anyone deserves. He removes his hand and lets it fall back to his sides, turning it into a fist, nails digging into his palm before he unclenches and takes in a stuttering breath.

“You can take my bed, I have a mattress underneath it that I’ll set up for myself and—”

“ _No, no_ ,” Jooheon shakes his head vehemently. “I’m already being a nuisance, I’ll just sleep on the floor.”

Minhyuk stares at him, speechless.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he mutters out, running a hand through his hair, distressed. “You’re not just sleeping on the floor, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Listen it’s late and I’m tired, homework has been taking a toll on me and I’ve been feeling like shit because—” he stops in his sentence, not wanting to bring back that memory all while Jooheon looks so broken. “I’m just tired, let’s both sleep in the bed.”

Jooheon’s eyes widen for a second ,but he doesn’t say anything just nods as he walks over to the bed, his movements slow and dragging as if he can’t completely move freely and Minhyuk wonders if there are more injuries there that are hidden. The thought makes bile rise in his stomach and he tries not to think about it. He walks over to the desk and turns off the light, his homework already forgotten, it doesn’t matter he will just copy from some classmate. He walks back to his bed, Jooheon lies in it, under the covers, rigid and his eyes wide open, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. The sight hurts him.

“Just feel like you’re at home,” Minhyuk says and then cringes at his own words but Jooheon doesn't seem to notice his slip up, instead he glances at him, his expression unreadable.

“I am,” he finally says, quietly.

Minhyuk gulps down everything he has been feeling ever since Jooheon sat in front of his window looking lost and broken; hell, ever since he walked out of the Lee’s house three days ago, with fear in his heart. He swallows everything he feels down and walks over to the bed, everything around him slows down, his own heart beat remains frantic though, with Jooheon’s eyes on him, catching his every movement. He feels exposed and vulnerable.

He falls into a restless sleep and when he wakes up he is alone. _Again_.

It always ends up like this and Minhyuk is tired of it; so, so tired. It makes him feel guilty, but he can’t keep up. Can’t keep hurting himself like this. Can’t let Jooheon keep breaking his heart like this.

He doesn’t even register it but suddenly he’s walking down a familiar and small alley, the white and red logo of the washing center blinding him as he blinks up at the sky, where it seems a downpour will fall. He rings Hoseok’s doorbell, seconds later he’s let in. He walks up to the floor his friends lives at and the apartment’s door is opened by Hoseok’s younger sister. She has ketchup smeared over the corner’s of her mouth and she holds a chicken nugget.

“Minhyuk!” she screams delighted.

“Eunji!” Minhyuk says back, trying to be cheerful, to not let her see how broken he is. He doesn’t want her to expose to such negative feelings.

When Minhyuk takes Eunji’s greasy hand and walks to where Hoseok is, he is met with chaos. It seems as if Hoseok’s mom has been working more shifts these days and his older brother—Seonghan—hadn’t been around, leaving it all to Hoseok and, well, Eunji, who couldn’t really do much. She’s a child after all.

“Oh, hey,” Hoseok greets him, a bit surprised to see him. Minhyuk realizes that it must’ve been Eunji who had let him inside. “Make yourself comfortable. You can eat some of those nuggets.” He points at a half empty box.

“Those are _mine_ ,” Eunji protests, wrapping her small body over the box, and glares at her brother.

“What have I told you about sharing.”

“Ugh,” Eunji mumbles. “Sharing is caring,” she recites and hands Minhyuk one of the smaller chicken nuggets.

“What brings you here?” Hoseok asks, stacking away the papers he was going through; he guesses homework or perhaps bills. Hoseok sits on the couch, in the light that comes from outside Minhyuk sees particles of dust fly up, and pats the cushion next to him for his friend to sit down.

Minhyuk complies and after clearing his throat, he says, “Uh, Jooheon.”

“Ah.” Hoseok’s eyes flit over to Eunji, who’s eating her food and watching TV, but her head is half turned towards them to listen on in their conversation. “What did he do?”

“It’s—It’s complicated. He didn’t exactly do anything… That’s the problem.”

“Minhyuk…”

“I know, okay? I know. But I can only endure that so much,” he says, irritated and sad and devastated. He can feel the tears that have been threatening to spill out ever since that morning—ever since last night—and he hates it. He doesn’t want to keep crying because of Jooheon, but he feels guilty about being angry, too. Jooheon suffers a lot.

“I know.” Hoseok stays silent for a moment, just watching emptily his living room. “Let’s just… forget about it for today, yeah?” he says, hopeful, and glances at Minhyuk. “Let’s just have a good day…”

Minhyuk sighs.

“What do you have in mind?”

“We could hit up Hyungwon and, I don’t know, see if his uncle will lend us his boat to go fishing,” Hoseok offers, shrugging a bit helplessly.

“We haven’t done that in ages.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright,” Minhyuk agrees, deciding to put his mind to rest and at ease just for one day. He deserves to not worry about Jooheon for at least one day.

“Eunji, pack your things we’re going fishing,” Hoseok tells his sister, getting up from the couch, and she smiles at him with so much enthusiasm.

Minhyuk sometimes wishes he could go back to the easiness of childhood, when he still had to learn how unfair and complicated life will become.

* * *

 

**Spring ‘15**

When Minhyuk got the news from Hoseok that Jooheon had seeked him out and then had collapsed in the middle of the road, he had felt a range of emotions cursing through his body and paralyzing him.

He tried so hard to forget about Jooheon, move forward, and not allow that young man that he had fallen for when he had been a teenager, that had made him feel things he never knew could be possible—that had made him feel _love_ —to once again turn him into crying mess. Jooheon had hurt him too much in the past, constantly coming and leaving, never really thinking about how Minhyuk must have been feeling… But when he got the news he didn’t even think about it twice, he wanted to see him, to know he was okay; to know _why_ he was hospitalized.

The most infuriating thing is that Minhyuk can’t do anything. It’s partly his fault, he believes, that Jooheon is in the hospital. He was not understanding enough, not allowing himself to forgive Jooheon so quickly after he let him in so many times in the past years just to have Jooheon step on his heart and walk away again, his faith pulling at him; pulling him away from Minhyuk. And Minhyuk knows how strong faith is; he is religious, too, not as strong as Jooheon was and not as toxic as Jooheon’s parents are.

“Minhyuk, stop biting your nails,” Hoseok reprimands him but the tone is soft and the hand he lifts up to remove Minhyuk’s hand from his mouth is just as gentle, he closes his fingers around Minhyuk’s and squeezes his hand tightly, giving him a questioning glance. “He _will_ be fine.”

“It’s just, I informed myself on cases like these and the suicide rate—”

“We don’t know what he is going through,” Hoseok reminds him. “He might fight his way out of this dark spiral.”

“We don’t even know what exactly happened except that he collapsed and was hurt,” Hyungwon supplies with a mild shrug, grasping at emptiness just so that he could somehow calm Minhyuk down.

Minhyuk sighs and stretches out his legs under the table they are currently sitting at.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon, he skipped his classes—which in college can either be a crucial mistake or literally not matter at all—and has met up with Hoseok, Hyungwon, Changkyun at the café that’s frequented often by students to get lunch. Outside it’s sunny and warm but Minhyuk can’t enjoy the warmer days that are slowly approaching, making the people smile brighter and the trees look greener. To him it’s all still gray.

“We can try to visit him again, maybe they will let us in,” Changkyun says as he gets to their table, tray in hand with their orders. “At least it’s not as bad as the last time he was in the hospital…” he says with a shrug and then, as everyone’s gaze fall on him, his eyes widen with horror about his slip up.

“What do you mean ‘the last time he was in the hospital’?” Minhyuk asks, worry running through his body. The thought that Jooheon has been hospitalized before makes him sick.

“I think it’s best if you talk about that with him yourself.” Changkyun gives him a significant look.

“Right, of course,” Minhyuk mumbles out. “If he even wants to talk to me at all.”

“Minhyuk, I think this time it might be different than all the previous times… You should’ve seen how desperate he looked, how—” Hoseok starts to say but after Changkyun lays his hand on Hoseok’s elbow, a warning look in his face, the older stops talking. “Changkyun, you might be friends with Hyungwon, but Minhyuk is my best friend and he deserves to know what’s up.”

“Hoseok, it’s fine. I’ll talk with Jooheon once he’s discharged,” Minhyuk tells him, dismissively.

“I think Hoseok is right. You’ve done a lot for Jooheon. Been there for him for a really long time without really, _ever_ , demanding much back,” Hyungwon says, picking apart his croissant nervously as Changkyun frowns at his words. “Even if you did, you didn’t really push him. He hurt you a lot and maybe he didn’t know better. I know his situation wasn’t easy, but it’s a choice how we treat others…”

“Although I agree,” Hoseok starts, “there’s the fact that Jooheon had to grow, see this for himself. _Understand_ it himself. You couldn’t have expected him to know immediately… You couldn’t have expected him to just drop his family and faith, without any second thoughts, no matter how much he might have loved Minhyuk,” he rambles. The last words make Minhyuk’s heart squeeze but he keeps quiet, not really sure what to say or think.

His and Jooheon’s story is twisted and unhappy, and he sometimes, when he lies in bed and the shadows come to visit him, wishes he would’ve never met the younger. He wishes he could have kept pedalling that fateful day instead of hopping off his bike and walk over to Jooheon’s trembling figure. But he can’t change that now, all he can do is decide where he wants to go from now on.

Forgive Jooheon again and hope for the best, _again_.

He knows there’s a lot Jooheon never told him and feels it’d be unfair to take a choice without having heard everything. He knows that things come in different colors and there is no point in trying to paint everything the same color. He’ll have to wait for Jooheon to get discharged so he can understand in what shades their lives were painted and if they repaint them together.

“He fucked up big time, though,” Hyungwon says, heatedly. He’s frowning at Changkyun, who has an unpleasant look on his face as well.

Minhyuk doesn’t like that his friends are discussing this, jeopardizing their relationship. There’s nothing they can do or change about the past, it went the way it went.

Minhyuk sighs, “But it’s my fault he is in the hospital,” he tells Hyungwon, trying to calm his friend down and making sure Changkyun knows that he’s aware of his own mistakes.

“ _It isn’t_ ,” Changkyun says sharply, he frowns, anger flashing over his features. It isn’t the answer Minhyuk expected. “It isn’t,” he repeats, softer. “The only ones at fault are those to beat him up, his parents, the church.”

“But—”

“No, Minhyuk,” Changkyun insists, shaking his head. “I might stand by the statement that although Jooheon hurt you, there was a lot you didn’t know and the magnitude of it all is so much bigger than you could imagine. It wasn’t just a ‘oh, my parents are homophobic’, it was a lot more…”

“I know,” Minhyuk assures him, irritated. “I know that.” The tension is suffocating. “But,” he continues before Changkyun can interject, “I guess that there’s a lot as well that I don’t know. I am willing to know, though. I want to listen to Jooheon once he’s ready to tell me, if he wants to.”

“He does,” Changkyun just says, deflating a bit. His anger seems to ebb out. “I’m sorry for getting so defensive and slightly aggressive. Jooheon’s my best friend.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Hyungwon says then. “Minhyuk is my best friend. It was me and Hoseok who had to dry his tears every time Jooheon fucked up.”

“Yeah,” Changkyun says, his eyes flickering over them, and it seems as if he wants to add something, but, “Yeah,” is all he chooses to say.

* * *

 

**Late summer ‘04**

The sun is walking up its stairs, rising behind the houses in the small neighborhood, slowly casting warm and soft rays onto the streets, dimming everything in a golden light. The sky is colored in an ominous shade of blue, still holding some of the night’s darkness mixed with a pale gray, yet to become an actual shade of blue later in the day, turning brighter and colorful. But in that instant the world is still asleep as it’s a Sunday and not only laid a thin layer of mist above the town, but it laid above and in the minds of the people, who are slumbering peacefully, content upon having a free day to laze away.

But not Jooheon, he sits up in his bed before the first rays of sunshine shone through his window. He is simultaneously excited as he is terribly nervous about today’s events, he barely caught any sleep that night, twisting and turning in his bed as he thought about his very important mission. Warmth surrounded him at the thinks of finally performing in the church’s chorus together with the other kids his age (or maybe it was the sun’s light finally filtering through the silk curtains that hung over his window gracing his skin).

But it’s true, he has before him his very first performance, something he feels proud of, even if he feels slightly guilty over that emotion but he can’t help himself. He worked so damn hard, practicing day and night—at home, at school, even on the walk he took in between those two, he would hum the melody of the songs they were learning. And the day finally arrived, today he will stand together with twenty other kids in front of their community and show their devotion, show their faith, their love towards God.

He wants to give it his all, he wants God above to know he trusts Him, and lay all his future in His hands; he wants to show his parents that he’s ready to fully commit in their legacy of working in—or together with—the church. He can’t wait to see the faces of his neighbors and all the other attendants of their church, he can’t wait to see their delighted expressions and see them sing along. He always had been on _that_ side, watching the choir perform, and it always, without a doubt, drew a smile onto his face and made his heart feel incredibly lighter and warmer, so he can’t wait to be the one bringing that feeling to the people in the crowd.

When he pats down the stairs into the living, giddy and light on his feet, his father is already in the kitchen setting up a coffee pot on the stove, eyeing his son with tiredness until he finally breaks into a smile, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but Jooheon is too young to really see it or understand it. His father moves to the kitchen table and flips through the newspaper as he waits for his coffee, in the background the radio plays softly, it’s the locals’ church channel, where they play one gospel hit after another, and Jooheon really likes it, he found his love for music through it.

He moves to sit opposite of his dad, trying to mirror the posture and feigning interest in what the newspaper says, but it doesn’t really make sense to him. It’s written in a language way out of his reach but it doesn’t stop him from pretending that he _does_ in fact understand. His father gives him an amused look and moves the newspaper more towards him, so his son can read it with him.

When his mother comes down she stops at the scene and it draws a smile onto her face, a genuine one, that hasn't been there for a long time, not that Jooheon really notices. She turns off the coffee once the water boils and it makes gurgling noises, she fills herself and her husband a mug each and begins to prepare a light breakfast before they head over to church, where their son will have his first performance. They planned to invite him to waffles and ice cream after church as a surprise so she makes sure he doesn't eat too much now.

As they drive to church Jooheon stares out of the car’s window, dangling his feet in nervousness, as he slides up his hand to the window, closing one eyes and imagining his index and middle finger make up a man running through the neighborhood, jumping over obstacles (which consist of houses, cars, and people outside). He is caught up in his game but not too much that he doesn’t notice the big moving truck parked outside a house a couple of blocks away from where he lives. He stares at the house, which over the entire summer was decorated with a big _FOR SALE_ sign on its lawn but now it’s gone, instead a blue family car is parked outside the garage and all the windows are open, the gray curtains that used to hang over them are gone and Jooheon can peek inside the living room. He sees a man putting together a closet while a boy sits on a couch behind and seems to talk to the man in an excited manner.

Then the house disappears from Jooheon’s field of vision and he keeps entertaining himself with the obstacle game he has created for himself.

The church isn’t as big as it first appears from outside, a lot of the rooms are booked for community services or used as storage for the town, but the small space provided for the preaches and chorus and the people to show their devotion is enough and beautifully set up despite the old age of the church. The walls are out of stone and there aren’t any fancy wall tapestries covering them up (the pastor is very much against glamouring up the house of God with unnecessary goods when the devotion of the followers richen up enough the small space), the benches are out of plain, varnished dark wood that shimmers in the sunlight that filter through the big round window at the back of the church, candles are set up all around flickering now that the big door is opened for the crowd to get inside and settles into the seats.

Pastor Park is already present, stood by the door and greeting the visitors, asking them how they have been and handing out sheets of that day’s preach. When he comes across Jooheon he smiles at him and hands him an extra sheet with the lyrics to the song the children are going to sing, Jooheon takes it even if he knows the song by heart now. He waits for his parents to be done talking and glances around, taking in the people around him. He spots a few faces he hasn’t seen before, one of them belongs to a boy roughly around his age.

With a last look at his parents he decides to approach the boy. “Hello,” he greets him and the boy turns towards him, startled but smiles as his eyes meet Jooheon’s.

“Hi,” he greets back, rocking forwards on his heels and reaches out a hand. “I’m Im Changkyun.”

“Lee Jooheon,” he takes the hand and shakes it, tightly like his father has taught him, to settle that he is self assured and confident. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“We only moved here three days ago,” Changkyun tells him.

“That's cool,” he says with a nod because he isn’t exactly sure what else he is supposed to say. “Are you going to sing in the chorus?”

“Um, no, I didn't know there was a chorus.”

“There is, today is my first time singing,” Jooheon proudly states, the giddiness coming back to him. “We are singing _Hallelujah_.”

Changkyun frowns and opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by what Jooheon assumes is his father approaching them and putting a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“Making friends already, Kyunnie?” he asks and gives Jooheon a smile.

“Yes, his name is Jooheon.”

“Nice to meet you, Jooheon, I’m Changkyun’s uncle, Hajoon,” he reaches out his hand as well to shake the boy’s.

They exchange a few more words but the Hajoon is interrupted by a woman that looks a lot like him, they start talking in hushed voice and Jooheon puts his attention back on Changkyun.

“So, will you attend the school next month?”

“No, I’m homeschooled,” he replies, a bit miserably.

“Oh.” Jooheon feels dejected.

He has hoped maybe this year he could make some more friends at school, not that he dislikes his church peers, but he feels caged in. He sees them at church, he sees them when his parents invite their families over or when they’re invited over, he sees them at school… He wants to meet other people, some that maybe are more fun than his church friends.

“But we can be friends,” Changkyun says, noticing Jooheon’s sadness. “It’s scary having to move again to a new place and not knowing anyone,” he explains.

“Again?” Jooheon echoes.

“This is my second time moving in a year.”

Jooheon’s curiosity grows just like any nine year old with a lot of questions, that accumulate in his mind and itch to get asked, but just as he is about to open his mouth he notices someone coming up behind him and as he turns he sees it’s his mother, she softly puts a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him questioning and moves her eyes to Changkyun.

“Mom, this is Im Changkyun, he just moved here. He is my new friend.”

“ _Im_?” she repeats the family name and eyes the two adults standing behind the new boy, her grip on Jooheon's shoulder tightens.

“We moved here because people won't accept my uncle and his boyfriend anywhere we go,” Changkyun states sadly and silence falls upon them.

Hajoon stops talking to the woman and snaps his head towards his nephew and then he looks at Jooheon and his mother, whose grip has gotten even tighter, hurting her son but he doesn’t utter out any words. He doesn’t really know _what_ exactly it means what Changkyun said, but it's not good.

“Your uncle and _his boyfriend_?” his mother once again repeats like a parrot, distaste in her voice clear. Jooheon doesn’t like her tone, it frightens him.

“Kyunnie, what did I say about telling people about me and Minho,” Hajoon’s voice is void of any emotion and he lets out a sigh, eyeing Jooheon’s mother warily.

“I _know_ , but I don’t understand what’s so bad about it,” Changkyun complains, stomping his foot on the floor and rolling his eyes.

“You will one day,” Hajoon simply states, voice low. The woman next to him worries her bottom lip as she watches the scene unfold.

And whereas his hands are still softly on the boy’s shoulder, Jooheon’s shoulders begin to hurt even more as his mother’s nails dig into them, tears almost forming in his eyes. He regrets approaching this boy. The light around them disappears and it becomes dark and cold, and Jooheon doesn’t like the sudden change in atmosphere, the church lacks suddenly any warmth.

“Come on, Jooheon, the chorus is about to start, you don’t want to miss it, do you?”

“No,” he replies lamely and lets his mother drag him away from Changkyun.

When he stands up on the pedestal at the back of the church together with the other kids, singing their song, he notices the lack of warmth and happiness coming from the crowd, only plastered cold smiles drawn on the faces of the adults, and he wonders if maybe his singing isn’t good enough.

* * *

 

**Late summer ‘15**

If there’s one thing Jooheon is thankful for when it comes to his church it’d be the day he met Changkyun, eleven years ago. It feels surreal that it has been this long and that they’re still friend, despite all the pain Jooheon has brought his friend.

But Changkyun always understood and never left him alone with his demons.

Jooheon remembers when he thought that he could expect the same from Minhyuk, pulling and pushing him constantly. Seeking that warmth and the shelter the older offered his heart and soul, just to run away as the reality had sunk in and he had felt the chain that his parents and his church —and his faith—had on him would pull at him to have him back in place. Minhyuk never had seemed to understand it and Jooheon used to hate him for that, thinking that he wasn’t even trying to understand him.

But he was older now and he knew that Minhyuk couldn’t have done much as a teenager despite try to be there, and Jooheon couldn’t expect Minhyuk to carry all his emotional scars and baggage like it was nothing.

It took Jooheon years to fully understand and accept this, he wishes he could kick his own ass for it, but answers don’t just fall from the sky, they don’t come easily. There’s sorrow and pain and despair before a clear answer will materialize in front of one. This whole process was one he had to go through—ideally, of course, he would have just loved for his parents to be accepting, just like his church, but the world wasn’t an ideal place—so he could understand how important Minhyuk is to him and that he wants to keep whatever relationship he’s had with him in the past and that they can keep in the future.

So as Changkyun brings up Hyungwon and whatever budding romance there’s going on in between them, Jooheon thinks of Minhyuk. He knows how badly he’s hurt Minhyuk the previous year, after he ran away once again from home and from it all to Minhyuk and be sheltered, just to go back to his tormentors… His objective had been to put an end to it all and stand tall against his faith and parents and all the demons, but they were stronger than him and hurt him… He hadn’t been able to go back to Minhyuk, causing yet another tear in their relationship; one of the worst perhaps, so far, as Jooheon had promised Minhyuk he’d be there for good that time and he never had come back.

He never told Minhyuk what had happened that day, can’t stomach to do so. But he knows that he has to, that if they want this to work he needs to start trusting in Minhyuk and talk to him about his past… It’ll be a difficult process, something that’s going to torture Jooheon on some days and make him wish he could just ignore it all, but he knows, he  _ knows _ , in the end it’ll help him.

He can go at his own pace with this, he just hopes Minhyuk will as well. 

* * *

 

**Winter ‘14**

_Fuck._

Fear runs through his body, constricting his lungs and reaching its claws out to tear at his heart, making his chest hurt and paralyzing his whole body, his limbs are getting heavier with every passing second that his mind catches up to what is about to happen. He stands still, barely breathing, the only noise he hears is his heart beating painfully fast in his chest, the blood pumping through his veins quicker than it is healthy, rushing in his ears and slowly making his head hurt, his vision begins to spin.

Jooheon is faintly aware of the sermon Father Park is holding in the room just next to the one he finds himself in, but it feels so far away, unreachable and out of touch. He swallows at the door of the confessional opens and he gets dragged out violently. He closes his eyes, scared to look them in their eyes, scared to be faced directly with that hatred, but even without seeing who it is, he _knows._ There is no need to put a face to the hands that are roughly pushing him up against a wall, an elbow pinning him against it.

Jooheon struggles to breathes, inhaling viciously but he is short of breath, the weight on his chest is too much—both the psychological and the physical—and he shuts his eyes close even tighter, maybe he can pretend this is a nightmare and he is somewhere else, someone else.

Father Park is done with the sermon as the faint noise of clapping is heard, but it could be Jooheon’s imagination as well, the way his body is running high on adrenaline and shock, it could be the blood pulsating in his veins that causes the noises he hears. But then just as he feels hands pine his arms to the wall, Jooheon makes out the noise of a piano being played and the choir begins to sing.

_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me_

Someone grabs a fistful of his hair, it isn’t soft as that one time Minhyuk ran a hand through his hair soothingly, getting stuck on strands that were tangled up together, no, this time it’s painful and rough, no delicacy in it, the only cause for it is to inflict pain and it’s a channel for his attacker to let out their hate. Jooheon swallows, readies himself, prays to God, thinks of Minhyuk; anything to reduce the physical pain he is witnessing. _Thump._ His head is slammed against the wall, a hot flash runs through his mind, he sees bright white light in front of him for a split second, then it’s all dark again. Someone kicks him in the shins, pain shoots up and down his legs and his knees almost give up but whoever holds him up is strong because Jooheon doesn’t fall, he is pinned to the wall like a rag doll being held up by a needle or a nail.

_I once was lost, but now am found_

A fist comes flying to his stomach, knocking any air left in his lungs out of him, he gasps and almost opens his eyes, but catches himself in the last second and flutters his eyelashes close again. He doesn’t want to see their faces, he doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction. _Thump_. Another slam into the wall, this time more it’s painful due the wound that is already forming in the back of his head. He endures it, though, _he endures it_. Jooheon lets his mind wander away and finds that it takes the risky path down the dark and unknown territory that leads him towards Minhyuk.

_T’was blind but now I see_

Minhyuk and the little home he has built himself inside of Jooheon’s heart over the past years. Jooheon knocks on the door of said home, ready to find shelter and a place to rest. To lie down comfortably on a bed together with Minhyuk, their hands tangled together, surrounded by silence while they stare up at the ceiling above, save from the evil outside, inside their small bubble. Jooheon just needs time, time to figure himself out, time to heal from all that has weighed him down to the floor; a heavy and solid force on his shoulders holding him in place while he desperately tries to run away.

_T’was Grace that taught my heart to fear_

The arm pinning him to the wall is now gone and Jooheon sacks down to the floor, his limbs weak and paralyzed, with all the adrenaline he is unable to move so he just sits there, head lowered. His whole body is in pain, be it from the pain inflicted upon him and from the high tension he finds himself in, he shivers even under all the layers he wears, cold sweat running down his back, the clenches his jaw and shuts his eyes close tighter than before, the stress tensing up his muscles. It all _hurts_ so much. The pain shoots through his head, it comes in waves, the rushing in his ears getting louder, and he sees sparks behind his eyelids, they are white and too bright.

It’s all too much.

_And Grace, my fears relieved_

The door to Minhyuk’s home doesn’t open and someone kicks Jooheon’s stomach, it causes him to curl up and he lets out a soft whimper. He hears them laugh, delighted by his apparent weakness, by his small form, not even able to protect himself.

“This is what you deserve,” comes one voice. Snarling.

Jooheon imagines if he opened his eyes he wouldn’t be face to face with a human, no, instead he would face a demon of some sorts; red eyes filled with anger and hatred, sharp teeth blared and twinkling dangerously, and it would emit blaring sounds instead of words. Jooheon imagines they are all demons that come from some dark part in Hell, they’re not his church comrades, they are not his old classmates. They are Hell spawns, here to make him suffer and pay for his sins.

He shouldn’t have hurt the only person that was willingly giving him their hand, giving him a chance to escape this prison that his parents built for him, that he then took into his own hands and further shaped. He should have taken Minhyuk’s literal and metaphorical hand and fled from his home.

_How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed_

Minhyuk, Minhyuk, Minhyuk.

Almost as if his pleas are being heard, there are footsteps approaching the group of boys, a door swings open, momentarily the choir resonates louder in the room they find themselves in, the organ echoing off the walls and it resonates throughout Jooheon’s body, taking over his heart beat. The boys stop kicking him, halting in their movements and staying still, like mannequins. The person that opened the door steps inside, their footsteps are cautious and Jooheon dares to open his eyes the slightest, he glances at the figure, it’s blurry but he recognize the way the person holds himself, the way he walks.

It’s not Minhyuk, which is probably for the best, he doesn’t want Minhyuk to get hurt more than he already has gotten through Jooheon’s actions.

_Through many dangers, toils, and snares we have already come_

He swallows down the lump in his throat and closes his eyes again.

He waits for whatever is about to happen. It scares him.

Right when he already gives up and pictures the demons walking over to Changkyun to inflict the same wounds onto him that they have on Jooheon, there are more footsteps approaching, hurriedly and frantic. The sigh of relief he lets out hurts his lungs but he can feel the tension dissipating in the air and the group of boys, that until then was rooted to their spots, starts moving desperate to get away and not getting caught in the act.

“Motherfuckers,” Changkyun says. “Those fucking despicable assholes, I swear to God if I get my hands on them I will—”

“Not the moment, Changkyun,” says another voice, way softer; Hyunwoo? “Go see if he is alright.”

“Already on my way,” Changkyun says, his tone worried and voice shaking.

The demons are long gone, scurried off to Hell. Changkyun runs over to Jooheon, he knees down in front of him and when Jooheon opens his eyes again, he sees how worried and scared the boy looks, Changkyun reaches out his hands, checking up on his wounds but it's frantic and panicky, he doesn’t quite know what to do or where to look first. Hyunwoo walks towards him as well, his footsteps are calmer but there’s fear written on his face as well. The door slams shut and Jooheon closes his eyes again, the world around him fades away, the noises getting quieter by every passing second and his heartbeat turns back to normal, slow. So incredibly slow.

_T’was grace that brought us safe thus far and grace will lead us home_

Soft hands grab his face, caressing his cheeks and running through his hair repeatedly, someone shakes his shoulders, but Jooheon is too tired and worn out to react. He lets himself fall asleep. Or pass out.

_And grace will lead us home_

“Jooheon,” Changkyun calls out his name, urgent, so, so urgent, voice laced with fear and worry.

He wishes it was Minhyuk, because he promised him he’d go with him this time and he broke his promise. He’s lost it all now. If he could just see him one last time…

* * *

 

**Winter ‘14**

Darkness.

All around him, it’s the only way he can exist right now, with the curtains shut closed blocking any sort of daylight. The lights in his room are turned off and he stares unblinking at the ceiling above (but with the lack of light it’s hard to tell if there even is a ceiling anymore; he could be floating in an immense ocean of nothingness with the numbness settling throughout his body). Hollowness embraces him, reaching out its claws to tear at his inside, and the pain in his head is so unbearable it burns his eyes. He has spent so many hours crying that his eyes are dry, it hurts him to blink but so does staring endlessly at nothing, he is worn out and tired and everything _hurts so much_. His heart aches for some sort of release, some way out, he is drowning in a sea with no land in sight and the only boat ready to save him he destroyed it, dooming it to sink. Everything is on him.

Darkness.

His limbs feel so heavy they drag him down, chain him to the mattress he lays on, almost as someone strapped him to it, straining him from any possible movement, but truthfully it’s his own despair and self loathing that keep him in place, unmoving. _Unable to move_. It’s his own fault he lays in this hospital bed, five days after getting beaten up by his church peers. It’s his own fault. Everything.

Darkness.

He doesn’t know what hurts him more, the pulsing and never ending pain in his head, that causes him to clench his jaw, ball his hands into fists, to keep himself from crying again, or the way his heart feels so incredibly empty and worn out and tired, and he doesn’t wish for anything more than to just end it all. The pain, the misery, the self hate, the traumatic past, his wrong doings… All of it would be gone in the blink of an eye.

But so would the _warmth_ that he felt when he had been with Minhyuk that one afternoon after school, so would the brightness of his Changkyun’s laughter that uplifted his mood when things slowly turned to the worse over the past months.

He is confused and lost and whatever direction his thoughts take it feels like the wrong one. Whether he thinks about the sweet release of disappearing and letting go of everything; whether he thinks about the small hope that lingers in the back of his mind, desperately calling his name and telling him he should cling to it; whether he thinks about organizing this mess he finds himself in, slowly work towards something stable because he is still so young and life is so long.

But.

But all of it seems so pointless, all of it. Even ending it seems pointless. There is no guidance for him anymore, God abandoned him when he most needed Him, where is the light now? Where did the path he so diligently followed his whole life disappear to? Where is the _hope_?

It’s all gone, the only thing left is the painful truth and awareness that Jooheon is alive, alone, and that there is no upper force that moves things around for him if he prays some, if he asks some questions. All this time he talked to a wall, to the air, to nothing. Jooheon is only a human living on earth, like everyone else, there is no higher power to sort things out, to puzzle everything together. No one will forgive him for his sins, his sins aren’t even sins, it’s all _bullshit_.

None of it is real, he simply exists, like everyone else. There is no human above another, there is no human better than some other, there is no mission or purpose assigned to a human life. It’s all just different variations of that hope to get through it until they all undoubtedly die. It’s a way to put some color, meaning, _anything_ to avoid the ugly truth that things just are the way they are, without any further explanation.

Jooheon feels the whole world around him like something foreign and ununderstandable, he doesn’t get any of it, and even if he thinks of all the words that used to describe the world and humans, they now hold no meaning, they’re empty. He feels as if he is thrown into a big and busy city without a map (or perhaps he burned the map) and he is supposed to find the right way to walk towards…

Towards what?

Where is he even supposed to go?

With having thrown away all the rules and all the guidance he received previously in his life, he is surrounded by a sense of _freedom_ , but it’s too overwhelming. He doesn’t know what he first could do with this freedom. He doesn’t know what it even means to take his own steps and start walking, it scares him.

This freedom only feels like a new prison he is thrown into.

The room door opens and a nurse walks in, who sighs deeply, it’s a mix in between worry and annoyance, and Jooheon feels guilty. The nurse has been nothing but friendly over the past days, genuinely worrying for Jooheon and wishing him to get better, but all Jooheon can do in turn is to close the curtains because he just can’t bare with the thought of still existing, of a whole world existing outside of the four walls of the room he finds himself in.

Right now it’s just him, the nurse, the doctor, and the therapist; that’s as far as this new world goes and he isn’t sure when he will be ready to allow other people into it.

He isn’t even sure about his own role in this new world, who will he be? Who will he choose to be from now on? He doesn’t even know himself, he doesn’t know what aspects of his personality were heavily influenced by the words that have been preached to him his whole life and which traits are truly his. To what degree is a human even their own, isn’t it all a mix of circumstances, situations, experiences, traits they pick up from others.

The nurse walks over to the window, his face shadowed from the lightning coming from the hallway. He looks torn as he slowly opens the curtains, only to the point that it isn’t just the absolute darkness that surrounds Jooheon, but he doesn’t go as far as to expose the patient to the bustling life that is happening outside; the life that happens while Jooheon is isolated, feeling as if he is dead already. The nurse does open the window, though—noises of cars passing by and birds singing are suddenly filling the room just like a breeze of fresh air. And Jooheon misses being alive, he misses being a human being, but currently there is _too much_ chaos that he first needs to untangle before he can even attempt to get off of the bed.

“I see you have eaten the soup,” the nurse comments, his tone indicates he is relieved and happy but his face doesn’t give away too much, worry written all over it, as he cleans the small table attached to Jooheon’s bed, removing the old tray and replaces it with a new one, a fresh soup awaiting for Jooheon, together with a glass of water and different pills aligned in a white box. They’re colorful and look like cheap candy. “Today the Doctor Yoon will be coming by again, he is going to check on your wounds, although it seems they are healing properly.” He smiles warmly at Jooheon, trying his best to appear positive, bright, pass on some of his life energy to Jooheon. He almost succeeds.

But the injuries covering Jooheon’s body are just another reminder of how fucked up things got for him, how he got betrayed by all the people in his life, how he got betrayed by his believes, his faith…

All of his life was a lie, a perfectly constructed lie to have him under some sort of spell (or rather a form of manipulation) so he, together with many others, would follow a pre chosen path, so he would carry on this lie and subject his future children to it, so they could in some distant time again pass it onto _their_ children. And just like that it creates an endless road towards no real destination.

Jooheon didn’t want that, he saw how destructive it was, how spiteful and full of hate it was. He had seen it in the way his father had spat out hateful commentary whenever they had crossed paths with the Im family (and specially towards Changkyun’s uncle, Hajoon); he has seen it in the way his church peers had pushed around Minhyuk in school, yelling hurtful things at him, only because he had decided to stop hiding and had come out.

He witnessed it in the way those same church peers came and pushed _him_ around, hurt _him_ , yelled things at _him_ … He had seen it in the way, globally, this path has destroyed more than it has helped.

And he decided to put a spot to, decided to quit for good. But they had been stronger, so much stronger. Jooheon looks down at the cuts and bruises on his arms, he passes a hand over his stomach, his fingers lightly brushing over the injury and he hisses out at the pain that shoots through his body. They are all a reminder of how destructive his past was.

He feels lucky to be out just as much as he feels lost now, because there is no one to guide him anymore, no one to tell him which way he is supposed to go now. He doesn’t even have a home anymore. He can’t go back there, not after everything that has happened, not after almost dying so many times under the roof of his home; not after almost getting killed in a church, under the eyes of their so beloved God. He can’t stand to go back to any of it, but he has no other place to go.

That is except for the streets.

Once the nurse is done with cleaning the room a bit he turns towards Jooheon, a small, broken, apologetic smile on his face. His eyes hold pity and he seems uncomfortable about the news he is about to deliver to the patient. He approaches the bed and pushes the soup towards the patient.

“You should eat,” he says, scratching his neck awkwardly. “By the way, we still haven’t—I mean we got through but your parents don’t seem, um… We couldn’t really reach any family of yours to come and visit you and—”

“It’s fine,” Jooheon croaks out, it’s not as if he expected them to come anyway. He made his stand clear and they made theirs clear. They split up, but Jooheon doesn’t (can’t) feel bad about it.

“No, it really isn’t,” the nurse snaps, voice thick with anger, his hands balled into fists. When he meets Jooheon’s eyes he composes himself, deflating. “Sorry, that was out of place. This situation is just really familiar to me. Is there anyone else we could contact for you?”

Jooheon can’t say it, he can’t utter the name out.

“What about the guys that brought you here? Do you want us to contact them?” he asks then, cautiously. “One of them left behind his personal information, uh—” He reaches into the from pocket of the dress shirt he is wearing and pulls out a small piece of paper. “Son Hyunwoo? Do you want us to give him a call and put him in as the main contact, update him further on the status of your recovery…?” he trails off unsure now as he takes in Jooheon’s face, takes in the tears falling.

Jooheon thinks about it. He never quite knew Hyunwoo much, just that he was a friend of Hoseok of was Minhyuk’s best friend. The three of them had met before Jooheon had fallen into their picture. He remembers, though, that he and his back then friends had been mean towards Hyunwoo and his friends. He remembers it because he saw Minhyuk with them constantly and he was envious that _he_ couldn’t hang out with Minhyuk like that. Jooheon thinks about how he would voice his strong and negative opinions whenever they were close enough to hear him; he thinks about how he constantly was taking his father’s form or perhaps a demon’s form to spit out some vile words—there wasn’t much of a difference in between those two.

And despite all of it, Hyunwoo still offered his help.

Jooheon thinks about Hyunwoo and Changkyun coming to save him from getting beaten up by his old church peers. How Changkyun appeared in front of him like some sort of vision, behind him all was white and bright, and Changkyun himself seemed to be standing in some golden light, warm and soft, except for the deep concern and worry in his eyes. Jooheon thinks about the voices he heard that came to save him. They came to rescue him, despite his spite, despite his wrongdoings, they kept their faith in him and that fact, that realization, it wrecks Jooheon.

He doesn’t deserve the kindness that Hyunwoo and Changkyun showed him, but it’s the last bit of hope that he can hold on and he doesn’t want to let go of it.

“I can try to contact your family again but—” the nurse starts again, worried he said something wrong by mentioning Hyunwoo.

Jooheon shakes his head so quickly and strongly he almost breaks his neck. “ _No_ ,” he interrupts the nurse. “No, no.”

“Okay. Good,” the nurse nods slowly, still unsure. “So, Son Hyunwoo? Do we contact him?”

“Yes. But _only_ him, no one else.”

“Of course.”

*******

Hyunwoo stands awkwardly by the welcoming desk of the hospital, the assistant behind it is running his information as he waits. He glances around him, taking in the white walls with calm drawings hanging off them, the black leather chairs pushed to the wall behind him where currently a man sits in his thirties with a phone in his hand not paying attention to the world around him as he is immersed reading something on the small screen.

Hyunwoo doesn’t like hospitals.

He supposes that most people don’t as they’re majorly linked to bad experiences and that’s the reason why he is here in the first place. A bad experience.

Why Jooheon decided to contact him of all people is a mystery to him, sure he has left his personal information when they brought him here two weeks ago so it _does_ make some sort of sense, but the thought that the guy has no one else besides Hyunwoo, who is basically a stranger to him, just makes his heart hurt and his head spin, tears ready to spill out.

And he doesn’t understand why Jooheon didn’t reach out to Changkyun, who is his friend and neighbor, the one person that stayed by Jooheon’s side all these years—even if he tried to push him away, even after he made horrible remarks… Or Minhyuk, who, from what Hyunwoo remembers and understands, shared some deeper bond with Jooheon when they were teenagers. He doesn’t know what their relationship is like today

“Mr Son, if you’d take a seat over there,” the nurse begins, handing him back his ID, and pointing at the black leather chairs, “Mr Lee’s personal nurse will come in a minute to guide you to him.”

He nods and thanks the nurse, not able to utter out any word. He has no set picture of what he is about to face, he has no idea what Jooheon will look like, what state he finds himself in, physically and mentally. It terrifies him. He walks over to the chairs and sits next to the man, who pays him no mind, still focused on his phone, and Hyunwoo notices the man is smiling softly, in a daze, on the screen there is a chat window opened with multiple pictures of a new born baby. Hyunwoo supposes hospitals aren’t a bad experience for everyone.

“Son Hyunwoo?” calls out a man, not that much older than Hyunwoo, dressed in a blue shirt and blue loose pants, he holds a clipboard. He looks friendly, going by the softness of his eyes, and the relieved smile he gives him. “You are friends with Jooheon?” he asks once Hyunwoo is next to him and they are walking down the hospital corridor.

“Uh, kind of, yes,” Hyunwoo replies.

“That’s good,” the nurse says and there is more to the statement but he doesn’t elaborate, instead he reaches out his free hand. “I’m Kang Hyunjin, by the way. I have been with Jooheon for the past two weeks, overseeing his progress, together with the doctor and therapist.”

Hyunwoo takes his hand to shakes it. “Son Hyunwoo,” he replies automatically to which the nurse laughs, it’s homely and warm.

“I know.”

“Right.” Hyunwoo mentally applauds himself sarcastically at his social skills. “You said Jooheon has been seeing a therapist?”

“Well, yes,” Hyunjin begins slowly, adopting a rather professional tone. “His medical record is of course private but as you are the person he has decide to let in and getting contacted, I can you that he hasn’t been doing good mentally. He has been through a lot and I think no one was there to help him,” he explains and even if his tone is indifferent, kept professional, the set of his jaw and the anger in his eyes give away that he cares a lot more. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you and his other friends were there for him, but I don’t think he ever had anyone he could fully trust and voice his thoughts to. He has been alone for his whole life.”

Hyunwoo takes in the information and thinks about Minhyuk and Changkyun’s attempts to get close to Jooheon, who always pushed them away, only choosing small moments where he’d let go of all the walls around him.

Maybe this whole time Changkyun and Minhyuk weren’t fully aware of how bad things really were, none of them were, because it’s so hard to grasp, specially when everything just keeps going on so normally, no change or shift.

(It’s not as if Jooheon had done bad at school or had started to pick up fights with students around him, to let out some of the built up stress, when they still had been in high school; it’s not as if his parents had given away any of the conflict that was obviously happening in between them and their son. No, none of it, everything had carried on like it usually did. All while Jooheon had slowly broken apart internally.)

Hyunwoo doesn’t want to know for how long all of this started to crumble, when Jooheon first started to think he was alone and had no one to trust. He wonders when exactly the split started, when exactly things got so bad that Jooheon decided to turn away from everyone… That he wasn’t even welcome in his church community anymore. If they despised him, for whatever reason, where had he stayed the past years, after high school had ended? What had he done all these years if not attended college with his church peers and following the path his parents had wanted him to?

Hyunwoo realizes there is a lot he doesn’t know and it appears that Changkyun does neither. He wonders how far Minhyuk had been able to break through those walls Jooheon had put up. He wonders if they’re still on speaking terms, but considering that it’s Hyunwoo, merely a stranger to Jooheon, that is in the hospital right now, he supposes Jooheon and Minhyuk’s bond is weak and broken.

“We are here,” Hyunjin announces then, stopping in front of a door in a hallway full of doors, it reads 245, and Hyunwoo’s heart starts to beat rapidly in his chest, his hands shaking. “It’s okay, he has been doing better and he looks much more alive,” Hyunjin pats his shoulder lightly. “He told us to contact you actually five days ago but said he needed a couple of days to regain his posture until he feels like he can see someone. So right now he is in a relatively good mood.”

“Okay,” Hyunwoo only says; what else could he possibly say?

Hyunjin pushes open the door, revealing a small hospital room like the ones Hyunwoo knows from movies. There are two beds, one occupied, the other empty. There is a window and it's opened wide, the noise of the bustling city filters inside and the TV is on but it’s muted.

Jooheon sits on the bed, pale and much skinnier that Hyunwoo remembers. He is dressed in a white hospital gown, the blanket pushed up to his waist; his hair is wet, pushed away from his face; there is a huge needle pushed into his arm connected to an infusion pump with several bags hanging from it (the sight makes Hyunwoo sick); a tray lays on his lap, a soup plate and small water bottle on it, and he is mid taking a spoonful when his eyes raise up to the newcomers. He freezes for a split second, his eyes widening, and under the white light from the lamp at the ceiling his face looks sunken, the bags under his eyes prominent, but then he lowers his hand and gives a shy smile (it's more directed at Hyunjin than at Hyunwoo, but it’s something).

“Someone is here to visit you,” Hyunjin says and softly pushes Hyunwoo inside the room before he closes it, staying outside.

The silence is awkward. They are merely acquaintances, if even, and there is the whole story behind them of Jooheon outwardly calling Hyunwoo, Hoseok, and their friends homophobic slurs and taunting them back in high school. If it weren’t for Changkyun explaining Hyunwoo who really hid behind Jooheon’s past and mask, Hyunwoo doesn’t know how much forgiveness he would have granted the young man.

“Um, hey,” Hyunwoo tries, walking slowly over to the boy in the bed, choosing to keep a couple of feet of distance to the bed. He isn't quite sure why.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Jooheon says and by the way his eyes are full of sorrow and guilt he means it.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it, I didn’t have any classes today anyway and—”

“No, I mean I’m sorry about the way I treated you.”

“ _Oh._ ”

* * *

 

**Winter  ‘15**

It happens during New Year’s Eve that Minhyuk tells Jooheon for the first time that he loves him. It makes Jooheon breath heavily and nearly gives him a panic attack, but Minhyuk is there to catch him.

By the time the fireworks go off they’re standing on the rooftop with the rest of their friendship group. Jooheon detaches himself from the reality, though, because it’s still hard for him to bear with the idea of living and entering a new year, together with his old and new friends, and specially _Minhyuk_.

Minhyuk is right there beside him, after all this time, despite all this time. And Minhyuk loves him; it makes Jooheon feel all sort of things, negative and positive alike. When he finally dares to look up at the firework his resolution for the new year (for all the following years, really) is to be able to say he loves Minhyuk. To be able to live his life as freely as possible from the claws of his past. 

* * *

 

**Spring ‘18**

It’s a Tuesday and it’s scolding hot outside, the breeze that ruffles Minhyuk’s hair when he opens the church’s door and steps inside is very welcomed, but it doesn’t last for long. It’s just as stuffy inside the church, plus Minhyuk feels Jooheon’s nervousness and hesitance.

They’re holding hands and Jooheon’s hand is hot and sweat in Minhyuk’s, and he can feel the slight tremble the younger seems to suffer from. It’s understandable. Jooheon has avoided churches and religion for the past couple of years, trying to heal from his trauma and accepting himself. Minhyuk has been by his side helping him with it and about two weeks ago Jooheon said he’d like to visit his old church, try to see it in a different light now.

He’s grown and changed and healed, and he sees the world in a different way now, he’s told Minhyuk that he wants to try and make peace with it, or at least _truce_ with his past so he can start to move on and not keep being tortured by it.

Jooheon stays paralyzed by the entrance of the church, clutching Minhyuk’s hand tightly, as he stares at the altar up front, a closed Bible on it, the late afternoon sunshine shining on it like a scene from a movie. He just stares and stares at it, eyes unmoving, and Minhyuk starts to wonder if he’s even seeing at all or if he’s just completely shut himself off because the memories are too much and too painful. Minhyuk swallows and clutches his boyfriend’s hand tighter, then he turns so he stands in front of him, blocking the view of the altar (and all the religious symbols and figures staring down at them).

Minhyuk moves his free hand up to Jooheon’s face, cupping his cheek, and whispers, “It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

Jooheon blinks once, twice, then focuses his eyes on Minhyuk. He looks a bit startled as if he forgot that Minhyuk is there, and he stares at him as if it’s the first time he’s seen him.

“You don’t have to forgive, you don’t have to forget… You don’t have be okay already with all of this,” Minhyuk continues saying, rubbing his thumb softly over the area beneath Jooheon’s right eye.

Jooheon blinks again, the look in his eyes makes Minhyuk’s heart break. There’s the glassiness, the tears ready to flow, and that unaltered sadness that accompanies Jooheon, that he can’t let go of, yet. That sadness that comes from the shadow that still spreads over his life which holds him captive in his trauma and past experience.

“This was a bad idea,” Jooheon finally mumbles, blinking the tears away and moving his gaze downwards, and stares at his sandals. “It was stupid of me to think… To believe I was strong enough to… I’m sorry for making you come here.”

“Love, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I’m here to help you, to be by your side through all of this… Take as much time as you need in processing this and don’t forget you’re not alone. I’m here for you, and so are Changkyun and Hyunwoo, and your other friends,” Minhyuk reassures him and presses his forehead against Jooheon’s. “Just don’t forget that you’re allowed happiness and to feel better. There’s no punishment, there isn’t sin… It was all just—just a horrible fate happening to someone who didn’t deserve it. Pure hatred and…” he trails off, sensing that Jooheon was getting uncomfortable at the mention of his parents.

Despite all they did to him, the way they raised him, and the way his father hurt him; the way they taught him to hate with all his might and go down a wrong path… Jooheon still isn’t able to completely shit talk them or showcase his anger, sometimes doubting still if he has taken the right decision all those years ago when he ran away and chose not to believe anymore. When he threw faith away.

He tells Minhyuk as much, when he can’t sleep at night, when he has nightmares, when Christmas is around… There’s a lot of healing but Minhyuk will stay by his side, helping him with it. He doesn’t mind and besides, he loves him, there’s not much he wouldn’t do for Jooheon. And Minhyuk has learned so much from his boyfriend in the past couple of years since they decided to give it an honest shot, laying all cards out on the open.

He’s learned to be a lot more soft hearted and patient and open and loving and empathetic.

“Can we leave?” Jooheon asks, not looking away from his sandals.

Minhyuk nods, then clears his throat and says, “Yes, let’s go. We can go visit Changkyun or something. He always cheers you up.”

Jooheon smalls a faint smile. “Ah, but lately I’ve been cheering _him_ up,” he says, their leaving footsteps echo through the empty church.

The door falls shut behind Minhyuk with a loud noise and as they walk to the parking lot where Minhyuk’s car is parked, he dares to look back once, for Jooheon’s sake.

“He’s fighting with Hyungwon again,” Jooheon keeps explaining and leans against the car. “Minhyuk?” he calls out and when Minhyuk looks away from the church, he meets his boyfriend’s eyes and there’s something in them that makes him ache.

Jooheon is purposefully keeping his gaze focused on on Minhyuk, in the hopes it will keep him from looking at his surroundings. He’s grown up here and come to this church every Sunday, sometimes in between the weekends. There are too many memories etched to every single tree branch, pebble on the floor, flower growing in the church’s garden… There’s too much history here and the sight of it makes Jooheon crumble still, so his only hope that life is different and he isn’t trapped in that history is Minhyuk.

Minhyuk who pulled him out of it more than once, so right now, too, he keeps his eyes on Minhyuk in the hopes that he’ll pull him out of the parking lot towards his much brighter future. The future he shares with Minhyuk (and his friends, of course) away from his past.

“Let’s go,” Minhyuk says, smiling lovingly and hopeful at Jooheon, who nods and turns to open the door of the car after Minhyuk has unlocked it.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Jooheon, despite all his cells and body and mind and soul screaming at him to do it, doesn’t look through the rear view mirror at the disappearing church.

“Hey, Jooheon,” Minhyuk calls out once they’re in the busier part of the city, where Jooheon’s future is unfolding at.

“Yes?” He turns his head to look at his boyfriend.

Minhyuk removes his hand from the stick and without looking searches for Jooheon’s hand, when he finds it (or rather when Jooheon reaches out to grab it) he squeezes it softly and says, “I love you.”

The air gets stuck in Jooheon’s lungs. Even after all this time the words still make him dizzy and a bit terrified.

“I know you told me not to say it much because—because of, well, you know… But I just wanted you to know, that I really do, and,” Minhyuk swallows and glances at him, “it’s okay if you still can’t say it back because I know that you do, too, and with your past—”

“I love you, Minhyuk,” Jooheon whispers, heart racing. “I am in love with you.”

Minhyuk beams at him.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so............ yeah
> 
> thoughts?
> 
> my [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/hhhjoong)!


End file.
